


Écailles De Lune

by feedmeyoursoul



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Jean the virgin, M/M, Scumbag Eren, fuccbois everywhere, no seriously Eren is a massive fuccboi, so is Armin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:52:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5279195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feedmeyoursoul/pseuds/feedmeyoursoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren is a 25 year old ex-frat boy living in New Orleans with his coven, serving as the reusable human sacrament and generally floating through life with no clear direction.</p><p>Title taken from Alcest album Écailles De Lune.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Heartless Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING:
> 
> 1\. Characters hold little to no semblance from canon; I just needed faces to put to names.  
> 2\. Unfortunately, I haven't watched the American Horror Story season with the same plot line.  
> 3\. Eren and Armin are both fuccbois.  
> 4\. There are a few things that could be interpreted as depictions of violence and/or gore described through poor imagery.  
> 5\. My writing is atrocious.

_[There it is... again.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PsRXao8mIy8) _

Everything in the house was vibrating at the rate of 5000 BPM, despite the culprit of the skin crawling tremor being an anesthetized, dragging, down-tuned drone. I willed the eye that wasn't pressed against the pile of pillows to crack open, afraid that the light that was already assaulting its lid would be too intense to take in all at once; as expected, a stinging sensation courtesy of a direct ray of the sun drilled through my temples and I easily aborted the attempt to scope my surroundings. Caught between a body too sloppy to move and a mind too aware to return to slumber, I opted for burrowing my face into the mound of down all the way to my ears.

The echos that woke me continued to play from the other side of the wall, volume muffled by layers of wood and insulation that did nothing but amplify the osculating rattle that seemed to fill absolutely everything around. This is what I woke up to almost every morning: loud music assaulting my senses and the echos of its wake. First on today's playlist had so much reverb and distortion on the guitar (which was probably strung with bridge cables) that the only logical conclusion that can be drawn of its existence is that the artist wanted the listener to feel like they were being dragged across the Sahara with their mouth open in the sand.

"Are you planning on being a useless piece of shit all day or are you going to get up and help me with breakfast?" I dug further into my haven of linen and feathers, purposely groaning as obnoxiously as possible while I brought my hands to cover the back of my head to intently ignore the intruder. Clanking footsteps against hardwood neared the bedside and i felt the weight of the duvet being torn off of my back, landing ungracefully on the foot of the mattress. My now exposed skin protested at the biting cold that nipped at it.

"Fuck off Horseface, I had a rough night" Jean Kirstein.

"Oh, right! I'm sure that you had a 'rough night' with all the booze and hookers!" The incredible half horse, half ape inter-species creature.

"Stop yelling! They weren't hookers, not that you'd know any better with your pencil dick and horse ass face" Grade A, all encompassing, spherical asshole.

"Are you seriously bringing my dick into this right now?" Ultra-strength chick repellent.

"I'm not bringing your dick into anything, it does a great job of that on its own" Occupation: Janitor (and part time Gate Keeper of the Beyond).

"That's it! You're fucking DEAD!" My one and only sworn nemesis.

Just as Jean was ready to flip the entire bed over like the barbaric brute that he is, the wall-shattering music abruptly stopped, leaving us both frozen as if time itself had halted right then and there. I gave a wary glance over to the mule (disguised as something resembling a human) and was met with with a silent, yet distressed, glare that commanded me to shut the fuck up and get downstairs immediately. Letting out a sigh of surrender, I slid off of the slant of the mattress, allowing Jean to put the frame down without a single sound; he gave me one last threatening scowl before turning on his heels and swiftly striding out of sight.

Left alone and standing barefoot on the icy wooden floors, I once again let out a breath of exasperation as I stretched out my body to rid it of residual sleep. The disembodied music began shaking the antique foundation of our dwelling as if to ironically signify the return of peace and I lazily riveted myself to face the glistening light coming in from the large window. My eyes scanned across the antebellum style cityscape laid out in neat blocks divided by roughly linear streets, taking note that how sparsely populated it was meant that it was way too early to be awake on a Saturday. New Orleans was definitely a city built for the night.

Figuring that it was best not to further upset an already agitated Jean, I, _extremely reluctantly_ , decided to get dressed for the day (the shower can wait until I go out later on). Today had nothing spectacularly important scheduled into it; the elders were coming in for our once a full moon meeting and Armin had promised to tag along to pick out winter clothes with me. I pulled on the first clean shirt that wasn't wrinkled to all hell and the jeans that I had worn yesterday before checking in the vanity mirror to make sure that my hair wasn't completely screwed. My appearance could be slightly off par, but the same logic didn't apply for the rest of my room. By the time I had stepped out into the frosty hallway, the bed was made without a single unwanted crease and the floor was spotless of any form of dust or other unsightly particles; I didn't even dare step into the en-suite bathroom, slithering into Jean's instead to use his mouthwash.

"It's about fucking time you got your hobo ass out here" I wasn't even all the way in the kitchen before the mule was on my balls again. "Help me take the food out. You're doing dishes once we're done"

I glanced over the the island counter lined with an array of plates, each holding a generous amount of perfectly prepared sausages, eggs, toast, and fruits. As much of an asshat as he was, Jean was also an exceptional cook and I've decided long ago that the food he makes didn't carry the sins of its maker. Careful not to overload myself, I balanced as many platters as I was comfortable with on my arm before making a beeline towards the dining table.

"The Elders are coming..." I trailed off, sliding the pitcher of orange juice to make room for the basket of sliced baguette. "Please tell me that they aren't going to keep us in all night"

"They shouldn't, but you never know. I'd cancel any plans that you made if I were you" Jean brought the rest of breakfast in, thoughtfully rearranging the setup on the table so that the dishes were accessible to everyone. "Especially because you've been fucking up lately and Levi's on your case"

"Please Jean, please please please shit more on my already shitty weekend" My innards dropped to the two hundred year old floor with the mention of my superior and irrational, anxiety induced anger bubbled in its place. "Please keep reminding me of that goblin and how he's going to spank me for being naughty"

"No one's putting a gun to your head to make you miss curfews" The mule gave me a smug grin as he adjusted the chairs to align in consistent distances from the table. "You're doing a great job of that all on your own"

"It's not cool to hold grudges, fam, but I'll take back what I said about your dongle if you're that mad about it"

"What's this about Jean's virgin dongle?" We both turned away form our glare-war to see Armin padding into the dining room, his deceptively angelic features clad in dark jeans and a tight fitting sweater. He finished tapping into his phone and looked up, greeting us with a smile that would swindle anyone who didn't know any better into believing that he was an immaculate being. "Jean, I thought we all agreed that your genitals aren't appropriate meal time discussion"

"THEN TELL THIS ASSHOLE TO STOP BRINGING IT UP!"

"Eren's anus and how it arouses you aren't exactly appropriate either"

"My backdoor is off limits, Horseface!"

"I WASN'T TALKING ABOUT YOUR ASSHOLE, I WAS CALLING YOU ONE!!! BOTH OF YOU STOP TALKING ABOUT MY DICK!!!" With that, Jean stormed back towards the kitchen, leaving the blonde and I to exchange mutual amusement on the mule's expense. The air quickly returned back to only being disturbed by the faint rumble of music from above.

Armin plopped himself down in his seat adjacent to mine, going back to fussing at the screen of his phone with fingers flying across each digital key; I followed suit, helping myself to a steaming mug of coffee, eager to cover the stench of any stale alcohol on my breath. The autumn morning spilling in from the glass pane was tranquil, or as tranquil as it would ever get in this house with each day starting off with deafening noise that barely could be interpreted as music, and I longed to get out to soak up what little independence I was allowed. It wasn't like I was being held hostage, yet some of the rules of the coven heavily conflicted with my main interests (which usually lead to even more restrictions on what I was at liberty to do).

My mind wandered to how I had ended up in my current situation in the first place, which was as stupid and logic defying as anything could get without violating some cosmic law that governed the span of the multiverse.

_It was back when I was a freshman at Ole Miss, vaguely studying under the guise of an Engineering major and putting in most of my energy into the fraternity that I was a part of. College wasn't as hard or time consuming as most people made it out to be, especially in the first two years, where it was mostly boring, stale core classes that had nothing to do with the major I was in, but was still required for graduation. I was both smart and lazy enough to put in the absolute minimum effort into repeat courses from high school to skid by with a 3.8, just to feed my ego of being on honor roll and keep my parents from becoming suspicious. This tactic of dispersing my activities allowed me to skew focus on what brought me the most joy, which was booze and pretty girls._

_It was early February almost seven years ago that the talk of Mardi Gras became more prevalent among my fellow brethren of hard partiers and it didn't take much talk or convincing for a group of us to decide to take the six hour drive to New Orleans for the event. Once we had arrived, nothing stopped us from using our expertly made fake IDs to get into the bars and start our familiar antics of binge drinking and flirting; somewhere along the night of sloppy groping and spilled rum, I had become so intoxicated that I stumbled out from the bar that my friends were in to have a smoke outside, straying into an eerily quiet park where I sat myself on one of its worn benches. As I puffed on the bent cigarette, I distinctly remembered feeling rather disappointed about the selection of females in the mix and drunkenly electing to wander around the bustling town for a bit until I found something that would pique my interest. I ended up floating around the less chaotic section of the historic district, looking into tiny, closed shops wondering how long it would be until they opened again._

_The precise moment when I was ungracefully reaching into the pocket of my pea coat for the crushed box of Marlboros is when I was roughly grabbed by the back of my neck by an unseen assailant and pulled backwards with the power of a hundred steeds. I was, of course, way past too intoxicated to resist or even fear for my life, so I let the mystery force drag me into an antebellum style house with old, creaky floorboards and surprisingly well preserved stonework. At the point I was manhandled into a finely furnished room and shoved into one of the antique style sofas, I should have been bartering for my safe return to my crew or at least offering my wallet to whoever it was that brought me there, but alas, once again, my brain was sloshing around in an ocean of cheap alcohol, rendering my instinct of self preservation completely useless._

_"Scrawny brats like you shouldn't be walking around at night like that" I lifted my heavy eyes off of the upturned fingers in my lap and ascended to the aggressor. To my mild surprise, the guy wasn't a hulking mass of muscles towering over me with a gun held to my temple, but rather a relatively well dressed manlet with dull grey eyes sporting a just as dull expression. He seemed to be in his mid thirties, pale, and tired (judging from the dark circles around his eyes). "It's past your bedtime"_

_"Hey man, I'm just here with my bros for fun. We'll be out of your hair by tomorrow" Words oozed out of my mouth with the consistency of sludge, much too slurred and thick to be understood by anyone. "What do you want? Want my wallet? My bank account number? Take it man, just let me go"_

_"Your room is upstairs at the end of the hall. Get cleaned up and go to bed like the brat that you are"_

_"Dude are you deaf? I said fucking take my wallet and let me the fuck go!"_

_"What part of 'get to your room and go to sleep' did you not understand?" The manlet stepped himself between my parted knees, leaning in close enough for his breath to his the bridge of my nose._

_"Ohhhh no no no no no, dude, I don't know what kind of seedy escort service you usually use and I really fucking don't care, but I'm pretty sure they come knocking on your door and you don't have to wrangle them inside"_

_"This is your last warning, Eren Yeager. Go upstairs, get in your room, and go the fuck to sleep" With one last threatening snarl that somehow got through the alcoholic force field protecting my brain, the stout man straightened himself up and strolled out of the visible dimension. By this time, I was lucid enough to know I should be clambering out of the house and calling the cops because my captor knew my full name, but my body protested against my will by letting go of consciousness right as I reached for the door knob leading to freedom. With the last of the fleeting capacity for memory, my mind captured a sensation of being gently lifted from where I was pooled onto the cold, wooden floor by a set of arms and being carried upwards towards the second story before everything faded into oblivion._

"Eren, you're thinking so loud you're going to wake up the neighbors" I snapped out of my trance and darted my eyes to Armin, who was apparently disturbed away from interacting with his mobile by my bitter musing. "What's suddenly bothering you so much?"

"Nothing. I'm just regretting not gutting a certain pygmy while I had the chance" The blonde rolled his eyes at my millionth mention of the 'should have, would have, never ever going to get done because it's too late for that now' fantasy, but offered a sympathetic smile as he sipped on his orange juice.

"You know that he would have taken whatever you were supposedly going to gut him with and turned it around on you"

"And do what? Kill me? Good one! I wish it worked that way"

"Just because you can't be killed doesn't mean that it still wouldn't have scared the life out of you" The next thing I knew, Armin was leaning across the table with his face in mine, an uncharacteristically menacing sneer spread over it as if to channel the insidious creature that lurks within the deepest, most secured void of his physical encasement. Searing pain shot through from my palm and I looked down to discover that it had been pierced with one of the many silver forks that petaled the table, stapled to the surface of the stained wood. "Right?"

"You piece of shit..." The healing began almost immediately and I rushed to pull the metal out before the regenerating flesh could engulf it; the intense pang that pulsed with my heart ebbed away as I watched the negligible amount of blood that managed to dribble out evaporate into the atmosphere, leaving behind not a single trace of the unnecessary violence that had just occurred. The offending piece of silver clanked against the porcelain surface of my plate while the now sedated fiend slinked back into his seat as if he didn't just stab me with a eating utensil; with how benevolent he usually is, it's too easy to forget that Armin isn't as benign as he appears. "That shit still hurts, you know"

"That's why I did it" He reached toward me once more and I flinched away from his reaching radius, intent on not getting harmed twice within a minute's span. Delicate, long fingers plucked the misleadingly pristine fork up, the serpent arm returning back to its owner's side without another incident. "What time are we heading out?"

"After breakfast, assuming you're not planning on making kebobs out me of" I shook my still steaming hand out to clear it of the rest of the vapors, examining mindfully for anything awry. "I'd rather not run into the weekend lunch crowd"

Before Armin had a chance to answer, the barrage of cacophonous music from the second floor faded away, followed closely by the sound of hard soles clicking against the floor slowly descending the stairwell; I averted my eyes to the languid scenery outside and braced myself for the tsunami of loathing that was to come my way once the embodiment of my resentments joins the table.


	2. Chlorine & Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren gets poetic about how much he abhors Levi, Eren and Armin go shopping, more about Jean's questionable virginity, and Eren vaguely describing the role of each housemate in the Coven.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The same warning carry over from last chapter and Eren briefly mentions trying to kill himself. Thank you everyone for reading and leaving comments/kudos/bookmarks and I'm really sorry that this is dragging so far.

Languid light filtering through the pane shimmered freely against the translucent glass of the shower encasement, splaying an array of colors against the bone white tiles on the floor. Late autumn in New Orleans was a pleasant time with mild temperatures during the day to the set of deep blue skies as backdrop to a rather elegantly designed city. Contrary to this beautiful display before me, my mood was in the grimiest of grimy sewers in Chicago as I waited for the water falling from the tap to warm up.

Breakfast was on the unbearable side despite how routine it was. Levi had slithered into the room, looking as bland and lifeless as I remembered him to be, briefly greeting Armin's cheery "Good morning!" with a slight nod as he motioned (read: bullied) for me to fetch his morning tea with a flick of his wrist. Holding back the groan so desperately I wanted to let out, I obediently did as I was ordered, taking extra care to position myself in the blind spot from the dining hall while spitting in his cup and rubbing it into every tangible atom within the concave china. Jean, who had been watching me do this every morning for the past six years, didn't do so much as send me a glance of disapproval as he strolled past with a basket of pastries.

"Thank you, Eren" Levi's voice always made my skin creep, catapulting me right back to when he was staring into my soul whilst I sat puddled in alcohol and demanding him to take my money in exchange for release; I strained a cordial smile when his fingers brushed against my wrist (which I wished I could peel the skin off of immediately) and poured slightly more tea than was necessary, intent on fusing as much of my saliva into the concoction as I could under his fixed eyes. Petty as it was, for now, this was my only way of revenge.

Each member in the house was required to partake every morning for breakfast at precisely 7:30 antemeridian unless a physical ailment prevented them for attending, which was another one of the Coven's stupid rules that I could easily do without. It was then that Levi would convey messages from the Elders (usually wasn't anything of substance), and announce appointments made by the Others (the term used to address any normal person who isn't a part of the Coven). These appointments could range anywhere from simple palm readings to seances to summon their dead great grandmothers' spirit, but all of them called for tedious preparations to make them happen. This particular morning, Levi briefed over the Full Moon meeting that was to take place later on tonight and the prohibition of going out after the event; I had been expecting to be stuck inside already, so I wouldn't have been so agitated if the pompous little gnome hadn't eyed me as if it was a personal attack.

Stepping into the now steaming stream, I let myself enjoy the invigorating sensation of warm water hitting my skin by turning my chin up and opening my arms towards the sides. Justin Timberlake serenaded from my room through the door I had left ajar and I ungracefully swayed in tune with Rock Your Body as I washed up, remaining careful not to spatter too much soap against the walls; my dearest hope at this moment was that the antichrist on the other side of the shared bathroom wouldn't try to passively aggressively drown JT out with his horrible playlist. Coexisting in any space with a rupophobic sociopath with shit taste in music who just so happened to be my superior was nothing less of nerve wracking.

Speaking of stressful situations, imagine my sheer panic when I woke up in the same room I'm using now all those years ago and immediately calling everyone I know to get me out of there. Think of how devastating it was when no matter how frantically I attempted to get through to them, none of my friends or family recognized who I was, or even remember that I had share my life with them for that matter. How absolutely horrifying it was to have my captor walk into the room while I paced around in utter confusion and to have him give me a half-assed explanation of how I was now property of a cult that I didn't know anything about just because it was my "calling". Try relating to the pure, unadulterated abhorrence that was birthed within me as it finally set in that I was unquestionably trapped when everything I owned was piled up in front of my door (with the heartless goblin ordering me to put it away).

Jean may be my sworn nemesis, but Levi was the incarnated form of the literal bane of my existence. If everything that he put me through wasn't enough to justify lifelong trauma, trust issues, and relentless loathing, I wouldn't know what was.

I felt my already sunken mood plummeting even further into the territory of anger and quickly retreated from the bitter musing; it was one thing for me to quietly grudge against things that was way out of my power, but it was another to let that slimy manlet get the better of me. Focusing back on the beat that flowed through the air, I twisted the water off and shook what excess moisture I could out of my hair. The bathmat slightly slid forward as I stepped onto it mid-dance, continuing to mouth the lyrics to LoveStoned and bouncing shamelessly while drying my body with an oversized towel. After checking for any signs of disarray (also known as dust particles, water stains, and/or stray hairs), I moonwalked back into my haven in sync with the tune, shutting the access way into the portal to the hell which was conveniently located on the other side of the door adjacent to the one I just closed. The volume of the upbeat song was turned down to my slight annoyance and I turned to face Armin sprawled over my bed, hand reaching for the knob on my phone dock.

"Hey, I at least I waited until you were done showering. I know this is your anthem and all" He sat up and placed his elbows on his knees, completely ignoring my look of objection. "Timberlake is outdated"

"Masterpieces are timeless" I rocked my towel clad hips over to the dresser, refusing to allow the smaller volume falter my perfectly executed choreography, watching my comrade giving my moves a thumbs down through the mirror. "Whatever man, you're just jealous you can't move like I can"

"Oh definitely, so so jealous" A wad of clothing was tossed at me when I finished pulling on a pair of boxer briefs that I knew would show my junk off. I stared at the black skinny jeans and navy long sleeve v-neck in my hands before shooting Armin a disgruntled side glance. "I took it upon myself to pick out your clothes so I won't be stuck here for another three hours while you alternate from one skank look to another. Don't worry, that'll put a Hollywood hooker to shame"

"I'll take your word for it since you're the honorary tramp of the house"

"You score higher on the sleaze scale though, I'm kind of surprised you haven't tried seducing Levi under your thumb yet" I finally let the groan I was holding back since this morning loose, drawing it out to its full potential as an indication of my complete and total disgust. "What? It's not like you've never tried and succeeded with other people"

"In case you haven't noticed, he completely ruined my life as I knew it, took everyone that I've loved away from me, and put me in a place where I'm forced to succumb to LARP Harry Potter for a living"

"As far as I know, you've never liked anyone you've manipulated for your own gain"

"I know my limits and choose my battles wisely. I would gladly bet the best head you've ever had on that gremlin not having a single trace of a libido or anything that makes humans, humans" Armin raised an eyebrow, mockingly. "And even if he was capable of experiencing healthy human urges, I have standards. Believe it or not I'm really picky, especially with dudes"

"What about that time when you went home with that circa 2010 Andy Biersack lookalike and came back with that stupid diamond grill when those were still cool?"

"It was one time and I had half a fifth of Crown to myself within an hour!!!"

"And that time you gigoloed your way into a half million dollar trust fund?"

"I think of it as a replacement for the inheritance I'm not going to be getting from my parents thanks to this cult"

"And that time you-"

"Okay! Okay! I get it! Let's just say that I didn't have this gargantuan vendetta against Levi. The guys you used as examples were still pretty enough to get down with, but Levi most definitely does NOT fit into that category because I'd at least like to fuck within my own species" Huffing from the irritation brought upon by mentions of horrible past mistakes, I walked toward the vanity to check my appearance. Despite being painfully erroneous about my ethical boundaries, Armin was spot on with the floozy factor of the ensemble; it put just enough on display to make the beholder hungry for more. "I'd rather get into a committed relationship with Jean"

"I was just making a point that I wouldn't put it past you, not asking you to deflower our Holy Mother Jean"

"And I was just making a point that I'd rather put my dick in Jean and Jean only repeatedly over an extended period of time than come close to even imagining fucking that imp" The skin on my arm erupted with unpleasant goosebumps at the thought of touching the mule intimately (and keenly avoided picturing the other option), but I shoved it out of my mind and grabbed my keys and wallet off of the side table and plucked my phone from its cradle. "Come on, I need to get the hell out of here"

The blonde sprung himself off of the bed and trailed behind me as we made our way down to the front entrance. Walking out the door, I clandestinely plotted to never return in my lifetime, which I already learned was a fruitless endeavor since I somehow ended up back against my will time and time again. It didn't matter if it was in the dead of the night or while the sun shone overhead in all its incandescent glory, whether I had announced that I'm making a run for it or if I hid myself in the cloaking shadows of a moonless gloom; after countless failed attempts at fleeing, I had no choice but to conclude that I had somehow been cursed to be bound the this location for all eternity when the coven claimed me as one of their own. We followed the cobblestone trail to the lot in the back of the house where the cars were parked, slid into my 370Z, and zoomed out headed for downtown. Armin connected his phone to the car's Blue Tooth and let some random Pandora station stream before turning to me with an infuriating grin.

"Three things, Eren. One, you look like Ryan Ross when he accidentally looks like a man. Two, you admitted that you and Jean are the same species. Three, you're blind to anything that doesn't interest you and just because you don't see something doesn't mean that it doesn't obviously exist everyday in front of you" I responded with an arrogant snort, adjusting the frame of my Wayfarers higher up on my nose as I pulled into the shopping district. "Park by Galatoire's, I need a Sazerac"

"I was hoping for the 'I'm so fucked on K, mate where are my hands' Oli Sykes look" I pulled into an open space in a daily lot and made a last minute attempt to set my hair in a side fringe; by the time I had become content with my look, Armin was already on the other side of the property handing the attendant our toll (which was probably a lot more than what was required from the look on the guy's face) and waving for me to hurry out. Chasing my now preoccupied companion down to the front of the boojie bar that he was hell-bent on visiting, I roughly scanned the relatively plentiful female populous before seating myself next to him. "First one to get three numbers from anyone above an eight gets off of the next cleaning duty"

The blonde turned around in his seat to loiter his eyes to the streets outside while keeping the tumbler filled with transparent crimson liquid pressed to his lips; it was a little before noon with a fair amount of game already in place with the number destined to grow as the day went on, which promised an easy catch with or without putting much effort into it. The competition was a stretch considering how women seemed to be smitten with the baby-faced Armin even when he's not prowling, but I really felt like I deserved a night of peace and quiet. By my calculations, I would be able to weasel out of doing the mountain of dishes and literally picking up specks of dirt off of the floor after the gathering if I actively engaged in conversation while the lush was tossing cocktails back. 

"You're on" He said with a cocky smirk, gesturing for another drink and using the same hand to fetch the rubber band off of his other wrist, tying his champagne hair into the infamous man-bun. "You are so on"

\----------------------------------------

Dark was fast approaching by the time we had made it back to the house and we were rushing to get inside before anyone started assuming that we had blown off the monthly ceremony. Armin, of course, had a conceited aura hazing about him from winning the bet I had proposed earlier, half way skipping back into the modestly lit mansion and disappearing into his room with his arsenal of new clothes. It was a close game, basically a tie, but he indeed managed to wop me in the sudden death chapter by chatting up a flirty lesbian couple composed of two finely garnished dime pieces, putting him in the lead with five numbers compared to my measly three. I wasn't so much as bitter as much as I was impressed at his skill of social interaction with the opposite sex and knowing exactly what to say, how to say it, and when to go in for the kill (not to mention that I was actually interested in one of the girls I had talked to today and planned on texting her later).

I let myself fall face first onto my mattress, dropping the bundle of bags in my hand to the floor where my legs clumsily dangled at an awkward angle. There was a thin film over the skies, veiling the setting sun and scattering the heavens with a breathtaking gradation of feathery apricot to abysmal indigo. All I wanted to do at that moment was to wriggle out of my clothes and cower away from the world under the protection of the covers, but I forced myself back to my tired feet to prepare for the impending ordinance, deciding that the grievance of having Jean nagging me to get ready wasn't worth the few minutes of sleep.

The whole concept of witching wasn't like anything I had expected it to be prior to coming in contact with the Coven; there were no handy wands, no shots of ridiculous potions that turn people into frogs, no levitating brooms, and definitely no pointy hats (which I was most upset about). Most of the spells (excerpt from Chuck Palahniuk books written in Latin) and potions (LSD) depended greatly on psychosomatic factors where the target actually had to believe that it was taking effect on them, so our main purpose in terms of public relations was to be exceptionally convincing actors.

There were a few supernatural aspects of it, however, that I probably never will fully get my head around. Jean, as I mentioned before, was the Gatekeeper who escorted spirits and demons to and from our realm of existence (how a dunce like him got put in charge with such a monumentally important task is still in question) so that they don't get lost or purposely wreak havoc on the living. Armin served as what was referred to as the Shelter, which was just a fancy and ominous name given to a medium to channel metaphysical entities of any kind (the easiest way to describe him is that he's the robot that animates the algorithm code that are spooky things from another world). He and Jean work in tandem with Jean opening the vortex to the beyond, letting a specific presence out, leading it to Armin who lets it use his body to do its thing until whatever needs to be done is over, which is the cue for Jean to extract whatever is holding Armin's physical being hostage, taking it back through the portal, and then locking it shut until the next time it's absolutely necessary to open. Technically the whole routine could be performed with one skilled medium, but this method reduces the risk of full on possessions or contamination, which I was grateful for since Armin had the tendency to show residual characteristics for a few days after hosting a demon.

Then there was me, the Phoenix (read: scapegoat). My sole purpose was to die and reanimate, that's it. Some rituals call for massive amounts of blood or some type of sacrament in order to appease the bloodthirsty baddies to coax them to do the living a favor and that's where I step in to spare any sheep or chickens from being harmed (effectively putting me lower on the food chain than farm animals). From what Hange had told me, I apparently always held the ability to heal with inhuman speed (complete with Quick Evaporating, Residue Free Body Fluids℠) and be immune to death by the means of physical maladies, but I hadn't "awakened" the power before. It was actually a hard pill to swallow at first, leading to my multiple misguided attempts at otherwise successful suicides (hanging, bleeding out, overdosing on heroin, getting mangled by a train, fighting tigers at the zoo, etc), but each time I tried I woke up a few days later in the same bed with the same accusing stare from the same manlet standing in the same spot in the same room who would bitch about it until my ears rotted off (I gave it up mostly because of this).

The armada of resentment I had toward Levi reignited with the fury a thousand suns and I quickly stomped the flame out to avoid further spread. I didn't have a clue what Levi did for the Coven other than being an overall douchebag and, quite frankly, I never had cared enough to learn. All that matter at this moment in time was I was due in to prepare for what would probably be a boring gathering and starting on it before the mule lost his patience.


End file.
